Emilio BUTRAGUENO

Emilio Butragueno appeared on the
international scene just as the BBC were getting used to pronouncing
the phonetic nightmare 'Severiano Ballesteros'. Proud as they were
for finally getting to grips with the golfer's name, they had
terrible problems with the new star from Real Madrid, insisting on
pronouncing his surname 'Butragwaynyo'. In fact, they never got it
right. The notoriously tongue-tied David Coleman was indeed happy to
learn that the player's nickname was the 'Vulture' (el Buitre), and
used the easier alternative whenever he was assigned to commentate on
a game featuring Spain. The period best known and cherished by a
large proportion of Madridistas, that of the Quinta del Buitre, is a
curiously resonant one. The Spanish - not just the Madrid variety -
have a curious penchant for naming eras and periods of time, as if
they had some national need to all agree on what was happening, at
any specific moment in time in I heir history. Since Real Madrid have
set the template for Spanish football since the 1950s, their periods,
as we have seen, have all been named, signed and rubber-stamped into
folk consciousness. And of course the quinta appeared after a period
of relative crisis at the club -like a new lover who benefits from
the 'rebound'.

'La Quinta del Buitre' means roughly
The Vulture Squadron', but does not easily translate. The scavenger
in question was thus called for his habit of arriving and finishing
off the kill that others had set in motion. He was to gradually
replace Sanrillana as the king of the terraces up until the mid-'90s
when he was in turn replaced by the present monarch, Raul. The word
quinta is borrowed from military service, and refers to the group of
buddies with whom you coincided during this potato-peeling year and
with whom you might have remained in contact afterwards. With the
appearance of this group of friends, Madrid could at last boast that
one of its great periods stemmed from local roots, all five of the
original quinta having done their Castilla apprenticeship. More
importantly, they were all Madrilenos apart from Pardeza, who was
perhaps the least important figure of the five. The quinta restored
the concept of Madridtsmo and repositioned it at the centre of
things, within a heady mix of popular culture and sport. The
phenomenon turned up at the right moment, just as the movida
Madrilena (Madrid scene) was flowering - a period of musical and
cultural dynamism that was diverting attention away from Barcelona
and back to the capital.

It rekindled Madrid's self-confidence,
converting the phrase into something strangely magical for Real
Madrid supporters. It has also lent Butragueno legendary status, one
that certain detractors claim he does not deserve on the basis that
the quinta has been lent a mythical status above and beyond the sum
of its parts. There may be some truth in this, but as we shall see,
the main factor for the doubting Toms was the squad's inability to
endorse the period with a European Cup, with the elusive septima
(seventh Cup). In an interviewed Jorge Valdano for
this book he was equally effusive about his ex-teammate Butraguegno,
and it was obvious that he meant it. In answer to my question about
whether Madrid's supporters had always tended to perhaps
over-appreciate 'gutsy workers with skill', he made the interesting
point that Butragueno represented the death of this concept at the
Bernabeu, replacing it with a more sensitive feel towards the
football aesthetic. As far as the five are concerned, the one who
ranks highest in the Top 100 centenary poll is Michel, at number 9.
Butragueno comes in second at number 11, Sanchis third at 16, then
Vasquez at 48. Pardeza does not figure, perhaps due to spending his
best years at Zaragoza.

The first two to be promoted from the ranks
of Castilla by Di Stefano were the defender Manuel Sanchis and the
midfielder Martin Visquez, in a 0-1 win at Murcia in 1984. Sanchis,
who managed 40 goals in a record 689 appearances for the club,
actually scored his first that evening in Murcia. He was to become
the only member of the quinta to soldier on and finally lift a
European Cup in 1998 and 2000, dedicating the first trophy to his
four squadron friends, by then all retired. Though Sanchis was a hero
in Madrid circles, John Toshack, on the final day of his first spell
as manager of the club in 1991, was to say of the veteran defender
that he was, The worst person it has ever been my misfortune to
meet'. It is not known what Sanchis thought of Toshack, but the
Welshman was taking the lid off the alleged darker side of the group,
in an acid reference to the power that the quinta were supposed to
have established by then in the dressing-room of the Bernabeu, as
well as in the presidential corridors and in the national side.
Toshack had cause to regret his little speech when he returned to the
club eight years later, and Sanchis was still there. Toshack had been
brought back from Turkey by the stressed-out President Sanz,
desperate for results and searching for a hard-man to sort out the
swollen egos in the astronomically expensive squad. Sanchis' nearest
contemporary, Vazquez, went on to play in Italy for Torino, a rare
example of a Spaniard who travelled well. He had, nevertheless, left
the club under a cloud, arguing with the old president Mendoza after
the latter had refused to pay him more money. On returning to Spain
he ended up at Deportivo de La Corufla, managed inevitably by John
Toshack.

Pardeza, originally from Huelva, was
the third to appear, followed by the Vulture, who lent his name to
the group. A falsely mythical status he may have accrued, but he
figures in the other hfarca poll as one of the members of the
all-time Real Madrid top 11. One of the players alongside him in this
pantheon of greats, Di Stefano, must take much of the credit for the
appearance of the quinta, though he has always been at pains to play
down his role in their emergence, claiming that it was just a case of
good luck for him to have been around when the eggs were hatching.
Though his period as manager of Madrid was brief and unsuccessful in
terms of trophies, he did indeed see to the nurturing and development
of the quinta. When Butragueno joined the club in 1980 as a
17-year-old apprentice, he went to training every day on his motor
scooter. Di Stefano, on spotting him driving in one morning, told him
that he would have to come by some other means, given that a player
had to look after his main asset, his body. The young Emilio did as
he was ordered, but one Saturday evening took his Vespa down town to
see some friends. Hearing the blare of a horn behind him, he glanced
into his mirror to see a red-faced Di Stefano, shaking his fist and
cursing at him from behind the wheel of his car. He sold the bike
soon after.

Butragueno, one of the club's
vice-presidents and its General Director of Football during the
second half of the Perez era, still looks as if he goes home every
night to his mum. He still has the delicate looks, the boyish Peter
Pan face, the curly fair hair and the slight frame that once made him
look more like an angelic schoolboy than a footballer. No footballer
had ever looked quite like him. Born and raised in the centre of
Madrid, he helped out in his parents' perfume shop and played
football at the weekends with family and friends, never really
considering himself to be a potential professional. His father was a
paid-up member of Real Madrid, but had not played to any significant
level. When it was suggested that Emilio go for a trial to Atletico
Madrid after scoring 8 goals for his school team at the age of 15, he
almost fell into the clutches of the red and white rival, a fate that
almost befell Raul ten years later. His father was on the point of
signing an agreement with Atletico when a family friend (Juan
Gallego), who was also manager of the Real Juniors side persuaded him
to hang fire until he had given the youngster the once-over - just in
case. Butragueno, a humble youth, told his father on returning home
that he had played fatal (badly), but the official report on him that
day noted that,

Three days later he signed apprentice forms, and in a
friendly match at San Lorenzo, Luis Molowny, ex-player and manager,
wandered along to see the game. After half an hour he sought out
Gallego and exclaimed, 'Who the fuck is that weird-looking kid
playing up front? Where did you find him? He's a genius.' Perhaps
more ruthless than genius, if only in the goalscoring sense, for he
never hurt a fly, was rarely booked, and his ability was based more
on avoiding physical contact than actively seeking it. He must have
been the perfect five-a-side player, the man to have on your side
during the one-touch training sessions. Michel recalled that he could
always rely on Butragueno to read his intentions. Michel, rated as
one of Spain's best ever crossers of the ball, pointed out that it
was the Vulture's art of the desmarque that was his greatest virtue -
the ability to hang square in a line with the defence then suddenly
break for the space when the ball was delivered. Watching a video of
Butraguegno's career, it is remarkable the number of times Michel
knocks the ball forward and the Vulture sprints out from the ruck to
score. But the goals are never hammered home, never scrambled in
untidily. He keeps his head and places the ball carefully home, or
feints subtly to one side and taps it in. They are almost all
unspectacular goals - a flick here, a chip there, quiet little
efforts that became his killer's trademark. He managed 140 goals in
340 league appearances, 25 in 71 European appearances and 15 in 39
King's Cup games, plus 26 for the national side. He won six leagues
with Madrid, two UEFA Cups and two King's Cups - not a bad haul.